String of Fate
by kazdingle
Summary: I was a Pokemon nurse, and he was a Team Rocket grunt. I lived to heal and comfort Pokemon, but his role was to hurt them. There was no way we could be friends, not when our lives were so different. But why couldn't I let him go? Why did I heal his hurt Grimer that night? I keep telling myself that we can't be friends, especially not lovers...even if we felt the same way.


The day I turned ten, my parents enrolled me in the Pokemon Nursing Academy. Inwardly, I wanted to scream and rebel against my loving parents, but I had accepted it without a second word; everyone knew this was the typical birthday gift for girls who reached my age. There was no point in arguing, since all girls from our town ended up at the Nursing Academy either on their tenth birthday or until the entire town shamed them into accepting their fate. Meanwhile, I stayed silent as my brother, always bubbly and full of energy, happily set out on his journey to become "the best Pokemon trainer ever," as was the fate of all boys who turn ten. I was excited for him, since I knew how much this meant to my hot-headed twin. Even so, I couldn't help but cry myself to sleep that night as I heard my brother talking animatedly with his brand new Vulpix, as I only had my Pokemon plushies to keep me company.

To say I was jealous was a massive understatement. Nate and I were born in the same room, grew up under the same roof, and were basically joined at the hip since birth. We were inseparable. We often pretended to be Pokemon trainers, heroically chasing off Team Rocket grunts with our Pikachu plushies, and going on grand adventures in the nearby woods (always staying away from the tall grass, of course). We promised each other we would become the best tag team in the world, yet never realizing that fate had drawn separate paths for us.

As my tenth birthday drew closer, there were whispers that I wouldn't be the Pokemon trainer I envisioned myself to be. My friends averted the subject whenever I said the words "Pokemon trainer," my parents would laugh and pat my head when I said I wanted to travel with Nate, and even my own brother stopped playing pretend with me. On the inside, I knew that my parents planned to put me in the Nursing Academy, but I took any chance I could to remind my parents what my real ambitions were. Today's announcement was a sharp slap in the face, waking me from the warm embrace of my childhood dreams and immersing me in cold reality.

I think my parents heard me crying that night, because the next morning I was greeted with an awkward "good morning" from my dad and a hug from my mom. I half-heartedly returned the embrace, knowing that my brother had already left earlier if the empty plate on the table was any indication.

"Elise, sweetheart, I know this must have been hard for you…" my mother said quietly, gently rubbing circles in my back. "I know you've always wanted to be a Pokemon trainer, but this is the right path for you. You're going to have fun, I promise." I wanted to cry again. I wanted to tell her no, she didn't understand, I was supposed to travel the continent with my brother, not study Pokemon nursing for eight years, I was supposed to have my own team of six perfect Pokemon, I was supposed to be anywhere embut /emthe Nursing Academy. But instead, I just nodded silently, biting back my tears. I didn't need to make this harder for any of us.

"Elise, come here," my dad said gruffly, handing me a light green hand-bag. "Your mother and I want to give you something. Think of it as a birthday present, from your family." I took the bag from my father's hands. It was a long, rectangular shape, nicely embroidered with a Pokeball design on the ends. The handles were padded with leather for an easy grip, and there were two pockets on each side of the bag.

"Thanks dad, I love it," I said, trying to muster up as much emotion as I can. The bag felt heavy in my hands. It felt like some sort of consolation prize, as if the world was trying to remind me that I couldn't be who I wanted to be.

"No, not the bag itself. I meant the Pokeball inside it."

Curiosity instantly surged through me, like a sun coming up after a long night of rain. The Nursing Academy didn't require their students to bring their own Pokemon, I knew that much. So why was I being handed a gift from the heavens?

I instantly unzipped the bag, and I couldn't help but let a small gasp escape me. There really was a Pokeball in there! I hastily grabbed the ball as if it was going to disappear from me, and with a nod from both my parents, I threw the Pokeball on the ground. Panic instantly seized me the moment the Pokeball left my hands. What type of Pokemon would it be? Would it be as cool as Nate's Vulpix? Or would it be a lame, second-hand Pokemon like Rattata? I knew I would love it either way, but the two seconds of suspense felt more like two whole years as I waited to see what would pop out of the Pokeball.

"Eevee!"

The loud, piercing cry jolted me from my worries. I couldn't believe my eyes. It wasn't a plushie – it was a real Eevee, elegantly licking its front paw as its tail gently swished from side-to-side. With an excited squeal of delight, I nearly tackled into the Pokemon in front of me as I hugged it close, its soft brown fur tickling my nose. My heart threatened to burst out of chest as happiness completely overtook me, with the resounding heartbeat reaffirming that this wasn't a dream, and I did indeed have my very own Pokemon. Eventually, I released Eevee and looked up to see my parents smiling down at me, patiently waiting for my response.

"Thank you, I love it," I said again, this time with genuine happiness behind my voice.

* * *

When I was sixteen, the Pokemon Nursing Academy allowed all their students to take a two-month break. It was a gift from the dean herself, as it marked the end of our primary education. This was the last chance we would have to enjoy our youth before we begin the next chapter of our lives, which would start off with two years of hands-on field work.

During this time, it was typical for students to visit home, since most of the girls came from faraway cities to study at the prestigious Nursing Academy. Tearful farewells were exchanged the airport as my friends returned to Celadon City, Solaceon Town, Mahogany Town, and wherever else. But for me, all I had to do was take the bus back to my house. This was my hometown, and the girls my age from home had been studying alongside me for the past six years. My Eevee, who had loyally stayed with me throughout the years, had become friends with the other Pokemon that some of the students brought with them, and seemed crestfallen as we made our way back to my childhood house. Was I excited to return home? Not really.

Just like my mom had said on my tenth birthday, things turned out fine. I made friends, I studied hard, and I trained my Eevee whenever I had spare time. My life was busy, but it was a good type of busy – every second of my day had been methodically planned, starting from the moment I got out of bed until the second I returned Eevee back to her Pokeball at night. I definitely wasn't living the exciting life of a Pokemon trainer, but I was living the life of a nurse-in-training. I learned how to treat sick Pokemon, what to do when trainers came in with their fainted Pokemon, and how to diagnose Pokerus. I was learning things that Pokemon trainers would never have learned, and I was becoming the healer that I was supposed to be.

Yet the same passion I had for Pokemon battling when I was ten never left me. Even as I learned how to heal wounds, I still dreamed of Pokemon battles. On nights where I couldn't sleep, I would go out for runs with my Eevee and take down a few wild Rattata's on our way. When we had break time, my friends and I would battle each other when the teachers were away, but it was apparent that my opponents never had the same excitement as I did. Of course, I had close friends, but I don't think they really understood how I felt whenever I saw my Eevee tackling another Pokemon down. I had good grades, but I would rather have been in the open grass fields than in a stuffy classroom. In short, I was content with my life, but never satisfied with what I had.

I think I was lonely. I hadn't heard from Nate since my 16supth/sup birthday four months ago, when he sent me a mail with his Pidgeotto. He wrote to me every birthday, with each of his letters containing just as much childish excitement as he had when we were young. He told me about the first Pokemon he caught, a Pidgey who had wandered away from his flock. He told me about how he bought a Goldeen from a local fisherman from Pallet Town, and using her to defeat Brock for his first gym badge. He told me about the Oddish he caught, and how he nearly lost his way in the numerous caves and forests that Kanto offered. I was overwhelmed with happiness every time I read one of Nate's letters, but that biting feeling of jealousy never went away.

For the next two months, I spent as much time with my Eevee as I could. There were no Pokemarts in Beruna Town, so I couldn't catch any new Pokemon. I would occasionally wander into Route 58, just north of my hometown, but without any Potions or Full Heals, moving forwards was difficult.

Life passed slowly as I stayed with my parents; and just like that, my break was over.


End file.
